Chương 40: Chapter 39 - The Seer Meets the Psychic

I found Turner in the staff room and asked him if he knew where Reisig was. Rather than try to give me directions, Turner offered to show me the way to Reisig's private rooms. His manner was nonchalant, and he never alluded to the fact he'd once found me wandering the halls, lost. No wonder I liked him. When he stepped out into the hall and saw Circe, he came to a dead stop.

"Mr. Turner," I said, trying to make an old woman smoking a pipe while staring at him with a wicked half smile on her face sound like a perfectly normal thing, "this is Circe."

"Circe," he repeated.

"Oh, yes," she said.

"You know her, Paul Turner. The Greek enchantress known for turning men into pigs. Of course, 'enchantress' is nothing but a fancy word for a witch." At first, he didn't move. Then he reached out his hand.

"I'm honored to meet you." As they shook, she said, "No comment about the pipe?"

"Far be it from me to tell a witch what to do."

"Good man." He led us over to the great hall and down the stairs, but rather than taking us through the north wing, he turned down the east wing, toward the dining hall.

"Reisig doesn't stay with the other teachers?" I asked.

"He's not technically a teacher," Turner said.

"But that's only a technicality. Wuller offered him one of the nicer rooms as soon as they were finished, but the staff hall is closer to the old gym." Turner shrugged.

"He must have preferred the shorter walk."

"Paul," Circe said, "what do you think of Reisig?" The teacher tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans. His answer came four or five steps further on.

"He puts in his hours. He tries to organize the information and teach the students new things. He makes them work, and he works with them. I once found him in the staff room at midnight, making coffee, because he was still getting ready for class the next day." He turned to look at Circe.

"I think he should have taken the nicer rooms." The witch hummed. When we passed the school's common room, Circe's pace dwindled until she came to a halt. The Saturday silence that reigned over most of the school didn't reign here. The boys that had stayed behind were gathered together, laughing, talking, or—much to my amusement—playing hacky sack. Someone had found a bean bag. It was almost as bad as the paper ball. The noise trickled out from the open door. Circe stood in its flow and let it wash over her.

"They're lovely, aren't they?" she said. Turner stepped up to her side.

"I don't know. Some of them can be hellions when they try."

"Paul, those are my favorite ones." I leaned over, trying to see into the corner of the room.

"Emerra?" Circe said. I turned to her.

"What are you looking for?"

"I…uh…" I flipped my hand over in a minimal shrug.

"I was wondering if my friends were back from town. It doesn't look like they are."

"You wanted me to meet them?" Since I couldn't play it cool, I decided to go for the enthusiasm angle.

"I sure did!"

"They have their phones until Sunday evening," Turner said.

"I'm sure one of them will text you when they get back."

"That would have required one of us to be smart enough to mention exchanging numbers," I said. Circe started marching again.

"Come on." We went from the dining hall, through the inner courtyard, and into the south wing. Circe stopped in the middle of the hall.

"We go over here." She raised her arm and pointed to the right. Turner said, "But Reisig's rooms are—""Nevertheless, we go over here. Thank you, Paul, but I know my way now." The dismissal was clear. True to his resolve to never tell a witch what to do, Turner excused himself and left.

"What's down this way?" Circe asked.

"The old gym," I said.

"It's where Reisig holds his classes."

"Oh? I can't wait to meet him." As we approached the door, we heard noises coming from inside the gym. I opened it wide and found Aaron Reisig pushing the chair-desks behind the bleachers. He was only half done with the task. He looked up as we approached.

"Good afternoon, Miss Cole," he said.

"Did you want to talk to me? I was too tired to finish this yesterday, so I've had to repent today. I won't be long."

"I wanted to introduce you to someone," I said. He paused his work and looked at the woman standing behind my shoulder.

"Oh?" Circe let out a loud, derisive huh.

"This is your psychic, Emerra?" I stepped back so I could see her. She was looking at Reisig through narrowed eyes.

"You'll have to tell Vasil to start looking somewhere else." She turned as if to leave.

"I'm sorry—who is this?" Reisig asked. He sounded offended, and I couldn't blame him.

"You aren't a psychic, Mr. Reisig," she called out.

"You are, first of all, a liar." Reisig's face went red.

"You have no right to say that." Circe turned one-eighty and pointed at him, her arm straight out, the stem of her pipe trained on his chest.

"Do you want to know what I see when I look at you? I see guilt. I see a paper with your name on it, and I see you crumpling it up, throwing it away. Tell her what that paper was, and why you had it, and then you can presume to tell me what I do and don't have the right to say." Reisig's eyes darted over to me. I felt like some kind of small mammal caught in an argument between foxes. I couldn't understand what was going on, but I was pretty sure they were arguing about who would get to eat me.

I threw up my hands and tried to look yucky. Reisig looked back at Circe. His face twisted, as if he was chewing over what he could say, then he clenched his jaw shut.

"Not yet?" Circe said.

"Fine. I'm at my limit anyway. Goodbye, Mr. Reisig." She turned and marched out. I ran after her. I wasn't about to leave a loose cannon like her running around. Not that I'd be able to stop her if she decided to do…well, anything. I caught up a few feet down the hall. We walked past three rooms without either of us speaking, then Circe let out a quiet moan. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"Oh, Emerra. I wish I had more time to give you. But it's only you and me now. Ask." She didn't have to tell me twice.

"Who are you, really?" I said.

"How do you know all this stuff? And why are you so cryptic?"

"I was a witch born with an incredible talent for spiritual magic, and I used it. The Torr and several covens will tell you that I used it too much. It untethered me from time, and I became a seer." My heart stalled.

"A seer," I said.

"Like me?" Circe stopped and looked in my eyes.

"No. Not like you. No one in the world will be like you. But I'm more like you than anyone else you've met. It's the worst comparison possible, but it'll have to do."

"Is that how you knew who I was?"

"Yes. I saw you before I came here."

"And Darius?" She puffed on her pipe.

"Do you know how troublesome it is to see a man, know that you'll see him again in the distant future, and not know why he'll look the same?" She turned and kept walking.

"The damn vampire could have warned me." She raised her head and said loudly, "That's one of the troubles with my sight—and the answer to your earlier question. I see. That doesn't mean I see everything. And I know even less. All you can be is cryptic when those are your limits."

"But you knew he was a vampire this time. He didn't tell you."

"I knew because you knew. Being around you warps my powers. I've been seeing in threes. That's why I had to hurry. Between you and these horrible echoes, I'm going to get the worst migraine." We reached the end of the hall. Circe threw open the doors and led me into the yard. I was surprised by how dark the sky was. Thick storm clouds had moved in while we were walking through the school. They were so heavy, the tops of the trees and roofs of the buildings were barely enough to hold them up.

A cold wind carried the scent of rain.

"We can get to my car from here, correct?" Circe said. I pointed to the right. She kept marching.

"How do my powers work?" I asked.

"I don't know. I haven't seen that." My stomach sank. She snapped her fingers under my nose.

"Come on! Ask what you really need to ask." I thought about that for a while.

"What do I really need to ask?" She smiled.

"An excellent question! If I were you, I would ask for advice about how to be a seer."

"Okay. Do you have any advice for me?"

"I do. Let's start with alcohol. Avoid it. When you decide to ignore my good advice and experiment, make sure you do it in a safe place. People are always most vulnerable to influence when they're asleep or inebriated. Don't smoke. It's habit forming." I couldn't help smiling at that. Ms. Elstein said that the best advice always came from hypocrites because they knew what they were doing wrong. Circe went on, "If you feel like you're getting lost, keep a journal. It helps keep things straight.

For the smaller headaches, put a bag of frozen peas on your neck and your feet in a tub of hot water. For the bigger headaches, you'll need darkness, a lavender eye pillow, and silence. Take your comfort wherever you can, however you can, and don't be shy about it. You'll need all the comfort you can get. It looks like it'll take some time for you to finish coming into your powers, but the rule of practice still applies. The more you work with your powers, the better you'll be at it.

Don't assume that you won't make mistakes, and when you do, remember—no one else in this world is perfect, so it's ridiculous to think you ought to be." We reached her convertible. She stopped, turned, and sighed.

"I think that about covers it." She removed her pipe.

"Thank you, Emerra. I've always wanted to try giving advice like an old woman. It felt rather good." She looked at me and tilted her head.

"But there's still something bothering you." I scratched my eyebrow.

"It's…uh…not important."

"So few things are. What's on your mind?" The words got jumbled up in my chest. I had to untangle them from my bashfulness and sorrow.

"I'm tired of feeling helpless," I admitted.

"I don't want to be a fair maiden. You seem so strong—""Strong?" Circe laughed.

"That guardian of yours could snap me in half with two fingers. I'm not strong, I'm brazen. There's a difference."

"But—""I'm sorry, Emerra. You could pretend to be brazen if you like, but it won't give you what you want. You'll still need other people." That hit like a train. Choo-choo! — have some insight! You think it's about strength? It's not. She went on, completely ignoring my remains, splattered across the tracks.

"Like it or not, you've been given a rare gift, and there'll be times when it gets you into trouble. You'll need strong people around to protect you during those times. But strength isn't the only virtue. All those strong people—let them do their work." She reached out and rested her fingers on my arm.

"You, do yours." Her hand fell away.

"Speaking of which, when we're done talking, you're going to go back to Mr. Reisig and talk to him. You'll find him in the old gym."

"Are you telling me what to do?" I teased.

"Hardly. I'm telling you what you will do. There's a difference." Circe opened her car door and sat down. After knocking her pipe out onto the gravel, she reached for the glove box and pulled out her kerchief. All of her other movements had been so sharp and measured, it was odd seeing how slowly she tied the kerchief under her chin. Once the knot was in place, she said, quietly, "Emerra, this place isn't good for you. You know that. The longer you stay, the more you'll suffer. Would you like to come home with me?

It's a safe place, only two hours away." The wind gusted. I grabbed the sides of my hoodie and pulled them close, wrapping my arms around myself. I bent down until I could lean on her door.

"Thank you, Circe, but I want to stay here. There's Darius, and Conrad—and I have to look after my four musketeers."

"Yes," she grumbled.

"I knew you'd say that."

"Will I see you again?" She looked at me for a second, then looked forward, turned on her car, and put it in gear.

"You will. And sooner than you might think." I stepped back so she could peel out of the drive. When the car was almost out of sight, she raised one hand in farewell. I waved back. Then I went to find Reisig. He was in the old gym, sitting on the bleachers, staring out at the chair-desks still in the middle of the floor. He hadn't done any work since Circe and I left him. His elbows were on his knees and his folded hands were resting between his legs. His head was bowed. I walked over and sat beside him.

Since I didn't know what to say, I didn't say anything. A minute passed before he took a deep breath and raised his head.

"Was she a psychic?" he asked.

"She was a witch," I said.

"A witch," he echoed, softly. I put my arms on the bench behind us and leaned back.

"Things are going to be different if Wuller gets his way. Psychics will be a part of the Torr. You'll have to meet all of them. The witches. The sorcerers. The alchemists—""It sounds like a fantasy book."

"So do psychics." He shook his head.

"What a joke. Every time I think I'm finally treading water, another wave rolls over me. If only—right? If only I had stopped. I had a hundred chances. Where's that voice that's supposed to tell you when to cut your losses?"

"Oh, that voice," I said.

"I know that one. The problem is, it won't shut up, so people have to train themselves to ignore it." When I glanced over, there was a faint smile on Reisig's otherwise troubled face.

"People, as in, yourself?" he asked. I made a popping sound with my mouth and touched a finger to the end of my nose.

"Right on the button. Mine's still nice and loud. What about you?"

"You're right. It could be screaming at me—I've trained myself to ignore it." He sighed and leaned back like me.

"What are your powers, Miss Cole?"

"I'm sorry, Reisig, I can't tell you that." He let his eyes rest on a spot near the ceiling.

"I liked my job. Never in a million years would I have thought I'd like being a teacher, but I do. Then, just when I'm starting to get the hang of it, you come along. When did you figure out I wasn't a psychic?" I chuckled.

"Honestly, I had no idea until Circe called you a liar." He let out a despairing laugh.

"Are you serious?" I nodded.

"Fuck." He pushed back on the bench to sit up straight.

"I found the note in your pocket on the night you collapsed. My name was on it."

"You took it out of my pocket and brought it over to the staff hall?"

"Yes." Well, that was one mystery solved.

"Did you attack me?" I asked.

"I swear to god, Miss Cole, I didn't. I saw someone walking down the hall. I didn't know who it was. I thought you were a student, sneaking around. When I turned off my light and started to come after you, you started humming. You stopped—I thought you'd heard me or something—then you started acting crazy and fainted. When I ran up to you, your eyes were rolling back in your head." My cheeks were hot with embarrassment. I could have gone my whole life happily thinking that no one had seen that particular event.

I decided to prod him past the memory: "You took me to Norris?"

"I picked you up and felt the paper in your pocket."

"So you stole it."

"I knew you and Vasil were investigating me."

"Reisig, we're investigating the boys' powers. We're trying to figure out where they're coming from. You were hired around the time the powers started showing up, so your name was on the list."

"It doesn't matter. I couldn't have kept up the act for much longer. As soon as the first team showed up from the Torr, I knew I was in trouble. When they didn't spot me, I thought I might be able to bluff it out." He shook his head again.

"All the attention the boys were getting was a real problem for you, wasn't it?" I said.

"My ideal life would have been if March of last year had lasted forever. There were an easy number of boys in each class, it only took a few hours to grade assignments, and Wuller only came in occasionally to check on how we were doing. For the first time in years, I had a job that felt safe. Then everything started getting out of hand." I looked out over the empty gym. There were scorch marks under the chair-desks. Lined up along the floor were fire extinguishers and buckets of water.

Worn tape, marking distances, pointed to the battered walls. It was quiet. The room was resting.

"Do you know where the boys' powers are coming from?" I asked.

"No," Reisig muttered.

"As more of them started showing up, I thought maybe it'd happen to me. After all those years of pretending, maybe I'd wake up and actually be a psychic. But it didn't turn out that way." His hands curled into fists. He rested them on his thighs, pushed himself upright, and turned to me.

"May I ask what you're going to do, Miss Cole?" There was a lot of emotion in his eyes. Too much for me to think clearly while I was looking at them. I looked down at my shoes and bopped the sides of my sneakers together. After a while, I said, "Turner thinks you're a good teacher. So does Wes. I think that's what the boys need right now. I'll come and talk to you when we're done with the investigation. We'll figure something out." I stood up.

"I know it isn't much, but that's all I can give you."

"I understand. Thank you." When I left the old gym, I let my feet carry me toward the main wing, idly pretending the boards were balance beams as I walked. I was so lost in thought, Wes had to call my name twice before I heard him. The boys were coming in the main doors.

"Hey, guys!" I smiled.

"How was it out there?" Scott stumbled over the others to get to me first.

"We've got more candy for you!" He flourished the packages like a deck of cards. My heart swelled with affection. Screw British propriety! I gathered as many of them as I could in my arms (Dustin escaped) and squeezed. My voice was choked and heavy.

"I'm never going to let anything happen to you guys."

"Emerra," Eric said as he tried to escape from my eternal devotion, "why do you smell like smoke?"